This year for Lent I decided to give up sweets. I thought it would be a good idea.
Reason #1. I have a major sweet tooth.
Reason #2. I have a major sweet tooth.
Reason #3. Lent is supposed to be an exercise of sacrifice to remind us of the sacrifices Jesus made for us.
Well, I don't know if anything magical has happened yet.
To be completely honest, I am wondering if it was a waste to attempt giving up sweets in this season.
If I should be focusing more on what I need to do, and not what I need to not do.
If I'm losing the reason for the season by focusing my thoughts on something that is ultimately so inconsequential. I won't have anything to show for it. I might not cause people to give a second thought.
I haven't experienced any major revelations yet...
...but I'm going to keep on keeping on for the next month...
In other news, we're in the middle of the 40 Days of Prayer!
But don't worry, if you missed it you still have time to get involved!
Here you can see George speak on the importance of this project:
And here you can get a copy of our prayer outline:
http://www.handsatwork.org/storage/newsletters/2014/nl02-14/40DaysofPrayer_2014.pdf
The 40 Days of Prayer are really a very special time. I experienced them last year on Africa soil: I was in South Africa for kick off and in Zambia for the 2nd half. You learn so much about people when you pray with them. There are amazing, intangible lessons you might not even be aware of at the time. When I think back on the prayers at lunch time in the chapel in South Africa in contrast with the early morning prayers in the Service Center in Kitwe, the memories are so different and yet so uniformly important. This year, being on American soil and separated from the other Hands Advocates by distance, it is amazing to feel united through technology. Sharing our prayers and reflections to each other. We are slowly knitting ourselves together as the family God hoped we would become.
Winter is drawing to a close and spring is hovering on the horizon.
It's a new year with fresh possibilities and challenges. Recently, I've been thinking about money. Not in the obsessive, all consuming way. In the general way when things just come to mind. I'm not one of those people who has a favorite vice. I go through phases. Sometimes it's gummy candy, sometimes it's chocolate, or baked goods or ice cream. Before lent, ice cream was the big ticket. (Which is weird, because it was freezing! but nevertheless...) So I just kept thinking: if I go to the store and buy Ben and Jerry's ice cream, it is $3.88 for one container. (See that? I didn't even need to look that price up! That is the recent state of my relationship with Ben and Jerry's!) If I eat a little over one container a week, say five containers in a month that is $19.40 and that is enough to support one child for a month! I'm not an obsessive ice cream consumer, but if I get on an ice cream kick I could easily spend $20/month on ice cream. I love ice cream but, as previously stated, I need to reign in my sweet tooth and I need to recognize the needs of others as swiftly as I recognize the wants of myself. Ice cream is great, but it is gone in a matter of minutes. Support for our kids in Africa could change their lives forever.
I'll still indulge my sweet tooth, but I'll do it after filling a need for someone else.
Maybe instead of reigning in my sweet tooth, I need to unleash generosity on others.
Like George said, we need to saturate our lives with prayer. They will transform us, and our world.
Maybe one day I'll have such a generous heart that I'll be sweet even without my sweet tooth.
Tuesday, March 18, 2014
Saturday, March 1, 2014
Landslide
I was driving home from work today and Fleetwood Mac's 'Landslide' came on the radio.
Friday night in the dark and dreary cold of winter but to me it was as if the clouds had parted and the sun was shining bright. It was a moment. One of those moments where everything falls into place exactly as it should and things just click. But let me backtrack for minute...
After leaving my home church, the shock-waves in my life began to settle. I began to dig in to my new normal. New church, new Sunday school class, new ladies Bible study, and a new home group. I also have had the immense privilege to get to know possibly the cutest couple known to mankind: they are not only Christians with an amazing gift of hospitality, but they have amazing love for Jesus Christ and His work in their lives! With new relationships being formed all the time, and relationships with friends from home and friends in Africa getting stronger, I feel stronger. I'm finally breathing again. Not the shallow, sharp breaths I would draw throughout those weeks when it was all I could do to get by, but deep, full breaths that fill you entirely and make everything feel new. Fresh. The best kind of breaths. But when you begin to feel strengthened within the Lord, He reminds you to let go of lingering dead weight.
Last entry I likened myself to a clay pot that is being reformed all the time; today I feel like a rock climber. I have trained for the task and I have an idea of what I might be capable of. I know my goal and the endurance it will require. I am excited at the challenges that lie ahead, yet I am stuck. Paralyzed by the deadweight that remains in my pack. I long to move forward, but it longs to hold me back.
I am constantly surrounded by two worlds. I have all the physical reminders of my past life. The safe, comfortable life. Favorite books, programs for events I have attended, school notes and other 'useful' items. Some items I have let go; others I am not ready to let go of. Others still, I feel obligated to keep. Because they were gifts, because I could/should/would use them or, worse still, because I am expected to use them. These things are juxtaposed with my other world: my African world. Things tangible and intangible alike. With my awareness that my possessions do not ensure or enhance my life, and that they unremarkable and replaceable. Empty things that remain in contrast with my irreplaceable friendships. I have been blessed with friends who have seen my ugliest parts and yet still see the hand of God in my life. Friends who remind me to stop looking at the darkness in the valley and instead look for the light over the hills. Friends who make me appreciate their friendship and inspire me to be a better friend. I am truly blessed.
So here I sit. Literally. If you really know me, you know I spend 90% of my free time sitting on the floor, but moving on... I sit surrounded by the things I should do, reminders of a life everyone always assumed I would live. Things that have weight, and it's a heavy weight. The weight of missed opportunities, unmet expectations and constantly falling short. The truth is that I still find some sense of identity in these items, and, whether or not I want to admit it, they also play into my perception of self worth. I went from being a super involved kid in high school to being a hardworking college student. At one point I was working three part time jobs and taking a full class schedule. After graduation, one of my part time jobs turned into a full time job. I never missed a beat and never took a break. Never taking a break meant never taking the time to examine my perception of self, identity and self worth. After spending time in Africa, I see my room full of things that don't add value to my life and do not actually implicate my self worth in anyway - even if I once thought they did.
These feelings, like these physical possessions, keep me stuck. They urge me forward, but without kinetic energy to get things moving, I remain transfixed. But I still hear the call, and have the desire to answer. From Marc Damour's post on the Hands at Work page, to ladies Bible study where we just read chapter 3 of Having a Mary Spirit by Joanna Weaver - a chapter that is all about our battle against the flesh, and finally to moving forward within Hands US and the Communications team in South Africa with the hope of intentionally telling our story and effectively sharing the heart of Hands within the US... Then the lyrics of Stevie Nicks hit me like a speeding train:
That line. ''Cause I've built my life around you.' What a heavy thing. Only I am the 'you'. I have built a life around myself. It's like ice that melts into water. The molecules are actually further apart when they are frozen, but when they are liquid the molecules become more compact. My comfortable life has compacted; the molecules in my identity are so close-knit that there is barely any room for God to move in my life. In order to keep my current situation intact, because it is comfortable and it is what I know, I have been holding onto things. Desperately clinging to two worlds, while I am on the verge of ripping apart. It is impossible to hold onto two worlds. Useful things are not useful if they are not used. Most importantly, I cannot hang on to the person I was while I am striving to become the person God intends me to be. If I try to keep my life intact as it currently is, I will never make it to the top of the climb. The weight will simply be too much to bear. (I honestly wasn't suave enough to plan the Landslide lyrics reference coinciding with my rock climbing reference - that was either inspired writing or a happy accident! so don't give me the credit, but I must say it is a nice touch!) I cannot be afraid of change, I must welcome and embrace it, trusting in God all the while. After all, I have let go of so much and it has been worth every moment of indecision and strife. All the tears and heartbreak have been justified by His holy name. And, like the song says, I am getting bolder. Overcoming the challenges and feeling stronger on the other side has made me bold about my faith and willing to share how God is working in my life. Through all the exciting changes and challenges, one thing is clear:
I have tomorrow off, it is thankfully a quiet Saturday, I have no formal plans and I am optimistic that I will be able to at least climb a few steps higher on the rock. Denying another piece of myself to make room for growth in Christ.
Fleetwood Mac. "Landslide." Fleetwood Mac. Reprise, 1975.
Friday night in the dark and dreary cold of winter but to me it was as if the clouds had parted and the sun was shining bright. It was a moment. One of those moments where everything falls into place exactly as it should and things just click. But let me backtrack for minute...
After leaving my home church, the shock-waves in my life began to settle. I began to dig in to my new normal. New church, new Sunday school class, new ladies Bible study, and a new home group. I also have had the immense privilege to get to know possibly the cutest couple known to mankind: they are not only Christians with an amazing gift of hospitality, but they have amazing love for Jesus Christ and His work in their lives! With new relationships being formed all the time, and relationships with friends from home and friends in Africa getting stronger, I feel stronger. I'm finally breathing again. Not the shallow, sharp breaths I would draw throughout those weeks when it was all I could do to get by, but deep, full breaths that fill you entirely and make everything feel new. Fresh. The best kind of breaths. But when you begin to feel strengthened within the Lord, He reminds you to let go of lingering dead weight.
Last entry I likened myself to a clay pot that is being reformed all the time; today I feel like a rock climber. I have trained for the task and I have an idea of what I might be capable of. I know my goal and the endurance it will require. I am excited at the challenges that lie ahead, yet I am stuck. Paralyzed by the deadweight that remains in my pack. I long to move forward, but it longs to hold me back.
I am constantly surrounded by two worlds. I have all the physical reminders of my past life. The safe, comfortable life. Favorite books, programs for events I have attended, school notes and other 'useful' items. Some items I have let go; others I am not ready to let go of. Others still, I feel obligated to keep. Because they were gifts, because I could/should/would use them or, worse still, because I am expected to use them. These things are juxtaposed with my other world: my African world. Things tangible and intangible alike. With my awareness that my possessions do not ensure or enhance my life, and that they unremarkable and replaceable. Empty things that remain in contrast with my irreplaceable friendships. I have been blessed with friends who have seen my ugliest parts and yet still see the hand of God in my life. Friends who remind me to stop looking at the darkness in the valley and instead look for the light over the hills. Friends who make me appreciate their friendship and inspire me to be a better friend. I am truly blessed.
So here I sit. Literally. If you really know me, you know I spend 90% of my free time sitting on the floor, but moving on... I sit surrounded by the things I should do, reminders of a life everyone always assumed I would live. Things that have weight, and it's a heavy weight. The weight of missed opportunities, unmet expectations and constantly falling short. The truth is that I still find some sense of identity in these items, and, whether or not I want to admit it, they also play into my perception of self worth. I went from being a super involved kid in high school to being a hardworking college student. At one point I was working three part time jobs and taking a full class schedule. After graduation, one of my part time jobs turned into a full time job. I never missed a beat and never took a break. Never taking a break meant never taking the time to examine my perception of self, identity and self worth. After spending time in Africa, I see my room full of things that don't add value to my life and do not actually implicate my self worth in anyway - even if I once thought they did.
These feelings, like these physical possessions, keep me stuck. They urge me forward, but without kinetic energy to get things moving, I remain transfixed. But I still hear the call, and have the desire to answer. From Marc Damour's post on the Hands at Work page, to ladies Bible study where we just read chapter 3 of Having a Mary Spirit by Joanna Weaver - a chapter that is all about our battle against the flesh, and finally to moving forward within Hands US and the Communications team in South Africa with the hope of intentionally telling our story and effectively sharing the heart of Hands within the US... Then the lyrics of Stevie Nicks hit me like a speeding train:
"Well, I've been afraid of changing
'Cause I've built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Even children get older
And I'm getting older too"
'Cause I've built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Even children get older
And I'm getting older too"
That line. ''Cause I've built my life around you.' What a heavy thing. Only I am the 'you'. I have built a life around myself. It's like ice that melts into water. The molecules are actually further apart when they are frozen, but when they are liquid the molecules become more compact. My comfortable life has compacted; the molecules in my identity are so close-knit that there is barely any room for God to move in my life. In order to keep my current situation intact, because it is comfortable and it is what I know, I have been holding onto things. Desperately clinging to two worlds, while I am on the verge of ripping apart. It is impossible to hold onto two worlds. Useful things are not useful if they are not used. Most importantly, I cannot hang on to the person I was while I am striving to become the person God intends me to be. If I try to keep my life intact as it currently is, I will never make it to the top of the climb. The weight will simply be too much to bear. (I honestly wasn't suave enough to plan the Landslide lyrics reference coinciding with my rock climbing reference - that was either inspired writing or a happy accident! so don't give me the credit, but I must say it is a nice touch!) I cannot be afraid of change, I must welcome and embrace it, trusting in God all the while. After all, I have let go of so much and it has been worth every moment of indecision and strife. All the tears and heartbreak have been justified by His holy name. And, like the song says, I am getting bolder. Overcoming the challenges and feeling stronger on the other side has made me bold about my faith and willing to share how God is working in my life. Through all the exciting changes and challenges, one thing is clear:
"He must increase, but I must decrease.”
John 3:30 [ HCSB]
I have tomorrow off, it is thankfully a quiet Saturday, I have no formal plans and I am optimistic that I will be able to at least climb a few steps higher on the rock. Denying another piece of myself to make room for growth in Christ.
Fleetwood Mac. "Landslide." Fleetwood Mac. Reprise, 1975.
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